To See All Clearly
by Windblown.child
Summary: After being banished from the Lonely Mountain by Thorin, Bilbo was badly injured in the Battle of Five Armies. Only by the compassion of the rest of the company does he survive. Everyone lives. BB/TO
1. Chapter 1

Needless to say, I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, or Peter Jackson's versions.

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To See All Clearly

Bolg was just as large as his father, Azog the Defiler, and hefted twin flails. Thorin stood shoulder to shoulder with his nephews, not daring to hope for survival. The King Under the Mountain let out a terrible roar and readied himself to attack, wishing only for Fili and Kili to remain unharmed. But before the trio of dwarves could rush their foe, Bilbo Baggins appeared as if out of nowhere and swiped his elvish blade upwards between the orc's legs.

The orc crumpled to his knees, dark blood cascading to the ground and his shriek of pain was terrible. Bilbo flinched back and didn't see the spiked flail whirling towards his head. The blow was glancing, but little fireflies danced before the hobbits eyes. Staggered, he turned towards the king and his heirs, all three stunned by his actions. Fili and Kili each took a hesitant step towards the woozy halfling but Thorin's countenance turned stony and he turned away. The two young dwarves followed their king back into the fray.

It seemed like hours later that the orcs and goblins were routed and the significantly diminished armies began to tend their wounded. Bilbo knew he would not be welcome among the dwarves in the mountain and did not feel comfortable among the Mirkwood elves or the men of Dale. So he wandered aimlessly among the dead, fingering the tender patch at the side of his head. Blessedly, he did not find any familiar faces as dark began to descend. Eventually, Gandalf found the little hobbit sitting alone on a low hill, turning his ring in his small hands and gazing dazedly at the bloody field.

The wizard watched the Shireling's eyes as he slowly looked up. Instead of moving smoothly from the field to the tall man, his large eyes twitched upwards, focusing slowly. Gandalf leaned heavily on his staff as he saw how blown open the halfling's pupils were. He approached carefully and reached out one long fingered hand to his curly hair. When he brushed over the lump, Bilbo gasped in pain and tried to pull away. Suspicions confirmed, the old man pressed the back of his hand against the halfling's brow. A fever burned under the pale skin.

Bilbo Baggins vaguely realized that he was being lead across the bloody ground by the gray clad wizard towards the great mountain gates. Even in his muddled state, he knew he wasn't welcome there and tried to resist Gandalf's hand on his shoulder. The old man ignored the silent objection, keeping a firm hold on his Mithril shirt.

"You must come Bilbo, you have to be cared for."

Disjointedly, the halfling objected again. "Thorin said he would kill me if I came back."

Gandalf could see the tears that welled in the hobbit's eyes. Of course he had not been ignorant of the respect and care the Shireling had for the king before the incident with the Arkenstone. "I am afraid, my friend, that you may die if you do not go back."

The wizard couldn't have heard the thought that echoed around Bilbo's empty mind. _"I should die alone, not in Thorin's kingdom."_

When they arrived at the gates, Ori stood keeping watch in case any elves or men had pressing business. "Gandalf! You're alive."

"We must have entry." The wizard stepped aside to reveal Bilbo leaning tiredly against his staff. "He is gravely hurt."

"Thorin would have my beard if I did, Gandalf. What about the elves?"

"They can do nothing for him." As if to make clear the seriousness of his injury, Bilbo closed his eyes and collapsed.


	2. Chapter 2

Needless to say, I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, or Peter Jackson's versions.

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To See All Clearly

Thorin glowered from his throne, surrounded by dwarves from the Iron Hills all vying for his attention and his favor but he could see no one from his own company. Without acknowledging any of the clamoring courtesans, he descended the steps and strode off down a passageway. The group followed, hardly realizing their lord had not spoken once.

"Leave me!" Thorin finally roared at the crowd when their voices became too much. Dain alone remained.

"You cannot continue to put this off, cousin."

"I am not. I only seek counsel of my kin."

"I am your kin, Thorin."

"Where were you when I called? Where were you when Smaug fell?"

Dain had no answer so he grumbled to himself and left. Finally alone, Thorin searched through the newly inhabited passages for Balin, his oldest and most trusted adviser. The older dwarf was nowhere to be found and the king's irritation grew with every step. After the battle, he had woken in a foul mood only to be pestered by sniveling Iron Hills dwarves. Reaching the kitchens, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and searched for anyone to locate and bring Balin to him. Not a single familiar face could be found. Cursing in Khazad, Thorin returned to his throne and faced the headache inducing crowd alone.

It immediately aroused Thorin's suspicion when he joined his nephews for dinner. They had been talking together closely but broke apart the moment the older dwarf appeared. Normally they would greet him before going back to their own discussions, but they were tight lipped and wouldn't meet his eyes. The King Under the Mountain had the distinct impression that they had been talking about him and left as soon as he finished his meal.

It seemed that everywhere he looked, his companions were acting oddly. Dwalin walked by carrying a huge bundle of wood without a word. Bombur was seen more than once with various food items that were not being shoved in his mouth. Ori was knitting furiously but the king couldn't make out what the lumpy shape could possibly be. Nori tried to thread a needle unsuccessfully for what seemed like hours. Balin looked exhausted and worried whenever he saw his oldest friend.

Bofur would not venture from one of the side passages but Thorin was not about to argue with the troubled dwarf over why he stood guard over an empty hallway. Twice he saw Dori leaving the kitchens with what smelled like chamomile tea. Oin stomped around, shushing anyone who talked too loudly and Gloin barked at anyone seen being brash. But strangest of all, was Bofur sitting off to the side, whittling a bit of wood into a vaguely troll shape, without his hat.

Life in Erebor was bound to be strange, but Thorin decided there was to be no secrets from him in his mountain. On the third day after the Battle of Five Armies, the king followed behind the hearing impaired Oin until they reached the corridor Bifur always seemed to be guarding. The two dwarves entered the last room on the right, unaware of their shadow. Allowing for a few moments, Thorin pushed open the great heavy door and entered.

Every single dwarf that had accompanied him on the quest to reclaim Erebor was present, strangely quiet and staring at something against the far wall. Slowly, Thorin took in the troll carving and Bofur's hat on a shelf. The king took several steps forward and could make out a bed, covered by the lumpy blanket Ori had been working on. And then he saw Balin leaning over the bed with a damp cloth. Bilbo Baggins lay surrounded by dwarves, faces grave as they watched his still form.

Gandalf stood when he saw Thorin Oakenshield among the others, face clouded over and furious. "Thorin."

"You brought him here after I forbade it?" No one would meet his gaze.

"He's hurt." Ori tried to speak but his voice failed him.

"Get him out of my mountain." His voice was deadly and everyone backed away.

"Bilbo hasn't awoken since the battle." Fili's voice was firm as he faced his uncle.

Thorin was still furious over losing the Arkenstone, despite the jewel having been returned after the orcs fled. But he had never wished the hobbit to come to harm. The stubbornness of the dwarves would never allow him to retract his words at the gate. "I care not if you must drag him away, but he will not remain here."

The gray wizard towered over the dwarf king and the light seemed to dim behind him. "If this is the gratitude you show to the one that saved your life and this quest countless times, you shall not be king for long."

"Eh, Mister Gandalf, he's moving!" Bofur shouted and the shadows retreated once again.

No one spoke as the halfling slowly opened his large eyes, blinking up at the stone ceiling. For half a second, Thorin couldn't remember the halfling's eyes being so blue. Gently, the wizard touched Bilbo's shoulder and smiled down at him.

"Welcome back, master burglar. We were all quite worried about you."

"Gandalf?" Bilbo blinked again and tried to turn his head. "Everything is dark."


	3. Chapter 3

Needless to say, I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, or Peter Jackson's versions.

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To See All Clearly

Thorin was conflicted, both as a king and a member of the company that reclaimed Erebor. He stood staring out at the moon reflected over Esgaroth and considered his options. On one hand, he had been disobeyed when Gandalf and the hobbit were brought into his mountain. However, he had seen how much the little band of dwarves cared about the halfling. But the dwarf king would not allow himself to admit he had been struck by how tiny the burglar had looked on the wide bed designed for a dwarf.

When the Shireling had turned his eyes around the group, unseeing, Thorin wanted to do anything to restore his sight. Growling at the night, the dwarf turned to leave the high mountain balcony but stopped upon seeing Gandalf beside the door.

"What do you want, Stormcrow?"

The wizard did not acknowledge the insult, but sighed slightly. "Do not be angry at Bilbo, he did what he had to do."

"He should never have come."

"And you would not have made it even to the Misty Mountains."

"He did not have the right to do what he did."

"Would you have said the same if it was Balin or Kili who had given up the Arkenstone?"

Thorin turned back to the lake. "He came between me and my enemy."

Gandalf leaned heavily on his staff, watching the dwarf lord carefully. "He has already paid more than he should have, but less than he expected."

"What double speak is that?"

"Bilbo was fully ready to die for you."

"He should never have come. He understands nothing of war."

"Just know that if he had remained hidden through the battle, Dain would sit upon your throne." The wizard left the balcony and the brooding dwarf to his thoughts.

Thorin was unsure how accurate the gray wizard's words were, but he took them to heart all the same. Fili and Kili were his heirs, but he knew they would gladly give their lives for him out of honor and duty. The hobbit had no bond to him and no reason to dare the open battlefield, and yet he had risked all. Forcing the halfling from his mind, the king surveyed the mountain slowly coming back to life.

Hammers did not ring in the halls and the Iron Hills dwarves had departed, but light and warmth flooded the mountain chambers giving a semblance of the way Erebor used to be. Inevitably, Bilbo would come to mind again, how his footsteps would be soft and he would probably get lost in the labyrinthine passages. Or how he would likely compare the mountain to his own snug hobbit hole. Thorin pushed himself out of the throne and went in search of his traveling companions.

The others were much more lively now that they were sure their burglar was out of danger of the fever, and much of their conversation revolved around the halfling. When Thorin entered the gathering area they had claimed, everyone went silent, staring at the king as if waiting to be chastised. Instead of lecturing them on their deceit, he waved a hand dismissively and poured himself a mug of ale.

"He's actually been walking again." Gloin whispered loudly to Nori.

"Legs as weak as a lamb's." Ori agreed.

"Wobbling all over the place." Dwalin beamed proudly.

"Nothing will keep him in bed." Dori pouted happily.

"A toast for Burglar Baggins!" Oin's whisper came out as more of a shout as his ear horn was long lost and everyone froze in horror, looking towards Thorin.

The king sat further away but stared hard at his companions, letting them worry for a moment before raising his own mug slightly. "Worry not, I will not throw him from the mountain today."

More reserved than before, the company huddled closer to continue discussing the hobbit without bothering their unreadable king. But Kili watched his uncle closely and saw him turn one ear more directly towards the group and leaned forward slightly to catch their low words. The brunette could clearly see the older dwarf wanted information about their 14th companion but was too proud to ask or visit the halfling.

"The fever would have killed him if the elves had found him."

"We nearly lost him ourselves."

"He's a strong lad though. Look how he refuses to stay in bed despite not seeing." Bofur nodded to the rest as if they would doubt him.

"He won't leave his room though, even with one of us."

"Poor fellow."

Poor fellow indeed, Thorin mused. But Bofur was right, the hobbit was made of stronger stuff than any of them expected. The king recalled all of the times the burglar had to be rescued and snorted. More like a grocer indeed. But still, the halfling had other qualities that made him imperative to the quest. Bilbo was quick witted, fiercely loyal, resourceful, and likable as demonstrated by the group of dwarves having cared for him. Not that he would ever admit those things to anyone else, least of all the creature he very much owed his life and kingdom to. It would be enough to let him stay until he could travel.


	4. Chapter 4

Needless to say, I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, or Peter Jackson's versions.

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To See All Clearly

"How are you faring?" Kili entered the room that had become the hobbit's.

"Fili's not with you?" Bilbo cocked his head and reached towards the door.

The brunette took the halfling's hand to show him where he stood. "No, he's off doing princely things."

"And you're not with him?"

"I wanted to see you."

"And I appreciate it. It's not as enjoyable sitting around as it was in Bag End."

Kili watched the hobbit's blue eyes wander away. "I imagine it's much less comfortable here."

"Not so much any more. The others keep bringing me things but I miss my books." Bilbo raise his hand to touch Bofur's hat, pushing it unnecessarily back out of his eyes.

"Thorin has been asking about you." The young dwarf announced suddenly.

The burglar snorted. "Not very likely."

"You're right, he hasn't asked, but he listens when we talk about you."

"Then you may tell him that I will be out of his precious mountain as soon as I can ride a pony." Bilbo let go of the dwarf's hand and tried to walk purposely around the room. It was more of a shuffle as if he expected the floor to suddenly have moved.

"I don't think he wants you gone."

"He made it very clear I am not welcome here. I don't want his pity. I would do it all again even if I knew this would happen."

Kili hung his head at the anger in the burglar's voice. He wasn't sure when he had lost his stuttering innocence, but he missed it for Bilbo. "It's his pride."

"You don't have to tell me it's his damn pride. It would have gotten him killed, as well as you and Fili."

"And he knows it all too well. He just doesn't know how to take back his words."

"He doesn't have to say anything if he doesn't want to. It won't make me admire him any less."

"Don't you see? He admires you too."

Bilbo scoffed again. "I won't be longer than a week at the most."

Kili made sure his uncle was within earshot as he told Balin the hobbit's intention to leave as soon as he was able. He wasn't sure what passed over the older dwarf's face, but he was sure the king would not just let the burglar go so easily. The young dwarf was proven correct when five days later the company was gathered before Thorin's throne discussing the anticipated settlers.

The hobbit was practically silent as he approached the group of dwarves, keeping the sound of their voices before him. He carried a light walking stick, carefully touching it to the stone before him as he knew the sides had no barrier and would not wish to tumble all the way to the base of the mountain. As the voices died away, the halfling knew they watched his approach and he wished he could see their faces. Surely Ori and Bofur would be sad, but he had no indication how dark the king's gaze was.

His walking staff touched the first step before the throne and he stopped, turning his face and blind eyes to the king before bowing. "Thank you, King Under the Mountain, for your generosity."

"Are you leaving so soon?" Thorin had pushed the thought of the hobbit leaving to the back of his mind where he could safely avoid it

"I do not wish to overstay my welcome, tenuous as it is. Farewell." Bilbo nodded to the dwarves surrounding him, despite being unable to meet their eyes properly and turned carefully.

Every dwarf watched the hobbit delicately feel the smooth stone floor before him and make his way to the front gate. The talks resumed, but those with the mind to notice could see that the king was not paying as much attention as he was before the interruption.


	5. Chapter 5

Needless to say, I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, or Peter Jackson's versions.

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To See All Clearly

That night, sleep did not take the king even hours after it was proper to. Thorin stared at the ceiling above him and the shadows from the fire dancing across its uneven surface. It was beautiful to him, to see the stone of his childhood home again and suddenly his thoughts turned to Bilbo again. The hobbit would never again see the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, even if he managed to survive the journey back.

Without realizing what he was doing, Thorin closed his eyes and got out of bed. It was disorienting to have his eyes closed tightly but he took a step and immediately wanted to open them again. The dwarf took another step and gasped when he tripped, putting out his hands to stop his fall. Unfortunately, what broke his fall was Orcrist leaning near the bed. The razor sharp elf metal sliced his palm cleanly, sending blood splattering across the floor and the king to his knees.

The dwarf kept his eyes squeezed shut, clenching his hand as he had a terrible realization. The hobbit could not open his eyes if he tired of the dark. He could not see danger before it was upon him. There was nothing to protect the halfling on the road back to the Shire. And there was no one to defend him. Bile rose in his throat as he finally admitted to himself that not only did he wish no harm to come to Bilbo, but he wanted to be the one to protect him. No one saw the king flee the mountain, hand still covered in blood.

Bilbo knew he had not made it very far the first day, navigating only by the feel of the sun on his back and letting his pony choose its own path. When dusk fell, he had no way to choose a place to camp except by feeling around with his hairy feet and walking stick for a smooth patch. There were trees surrounding him, and he found a hollow to rest in between their roots before somehow managing to strike a spark into some kindling for a fire.

Blind as he was, the sounds of the forest were louder than he remembered and the hobbit expected to hear Bombur's great snores at any moment. Surrounded by dark and friendless, Bilbo wished for the comforting noises of the dwarves again. The hyper-awareness of sounds made the Shireling jumpy and sleep elusive. Eventually, boredom and the aches of being back on a pony made the halfling's eyes slip shut.

The hobbit awoke in the very early hours before dawn and strained his ears to catch the sound that had alerted him. Something moved purposely through the forest towards his small fire and the Shireling remained absolutely still. He reached his hand into his pocket and slipped on his ring as the noise grew closer. Whatever was approaching reached the small camp and stopped, most likely looked for any inhabitants. The burglar could hear heavy breathing and several slow steps towards the fire and the invisible halfling.

Thorin sunk to his knees before the nestled blankets where the hobbit had lain. He gently ran his fingers over the lumpy material but he was already too late. Something had attacked the blind burglar and drug his little body away in the night. The king stood and turned his back on the blanket, finally admitting to himself that he cared greatly for the admirable hobbit and regretted sending him away. The dwarf cursed his own stubbornness in frustration.

"Thorin?"

He startled at the small voice behind him and turned. There stood the hobbit, one hand resting against a tree and large eyes reflecting the firelight. The halfling's name was on his lips as he quickly embraced his companion.

"I was afraid something had attacked you!"

"Why are you here? Is something wrong in the mountain?"

Thorin released the burglar but did not back away, carefully checking him for injuries. "It's much too dangerous to be traveling alone."

"I managed this far, and Gandalf will meet me in a few days."

"In a few days? Anything could happen. You're coming back to Erebor with me."

"What? No! I have to go back to the Shire."

"Then I am coming with you."

"You can't leave the others, you're the king."

"I could not forgive myself if anything happened to you because of my stubbornness."

"You are not responsible for my fate."

Thorin startled at hearing the words he had spoken to Gandalf months ago in Bag End. "I would if you would allow me."

Bilbo knew that the king would not be dissuaded from his choice, though he did not understand why there was such a great change of heart. "There is nothing I could deny you, King Under the Mountain."

"Perhaps you may once again call me friend and not just king."

Thorin would hear nothing of the hobbit packing up camp and made him sit until the pony was saddled and ready for the short trip back to Erebor. Soon the hobbit was perched on his pony, being lead by the dwarf, wondering exactly what had happened.


	6. Chapter 6

Needless to say, I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, or Peter Jackson's versions.

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To See All Clearly

The company was overjoyed to see their king leading the hobbit back to the mountain and welcomed them with open arms. True to his word, Thorin was attentive to the halfling and never spoke of his heated words before the battle. They would walk slowly through the mountain, Bilbo's hand resting on the dwarf's elbow as he described every detail and told stories of his childhood. Dwarves from every kingdom flooded the mountain and before the Shireling could feel lost in the noisy crowds, Thorin would pull him to his side.

None would speak plainly about the beardless halfling ever by the king's side, but they watched and they wondered. In private, they would whisper about the hobbit showered in gifts and the king's attention. Bilbo too wondered about Thorin's intentions after overhearing Balin discussing Fili and Kili's importance for bringing additional heirs. When he asked the old dwarf to elaborate, he made excuses and finally bundled himself off without explaining anything.

No matter how busy he was with running his kingdom or how many dwarves demanded his attention, Thorin always kept his eye on the hobbit. Bilbo quickly learned the finer points of dwarven society and soon became as trusted an adviser as Balin, relying on his keen sense of hearing to determine truths and deception. He alone turned aside several attempts to mislead the king and Thorin was truly thankful for the halfling.

His cousin Dain visited from the Iron Hills to enlist help in keeping growing goblin numbers in check, to which Thorin would not agree. They argued for quite some time, Balin looking between the two dwarves in concern, waiting for blows to fall. Bilbo could only listen as both kings grew more enraged. In their pacing, Dain had come close to the hobbit and suddenly lashed out. He shoved the defenseless halfling to the hard stone, taking pleasure at his helpless cry. Instantly, Orcrist was at his throat and Thorin was looking deadly.

"So you do care more for the useless creature than your own kin."

Thorin did not answer with words, he curled his free hand and punched his cousin as hard as he could. Bilbo heard the sickening crunch of his nose and Dwalin leading the foreign dwarf away none too gently. Then a heavy hand touched the hobbit's cheek where he still lay on the ground.

"Are you hurt?" There was none of the anger in his voice and the halfling couldn't help but smile.

"Nothing broken."

A rough thumb traced over a scrape on his cheek and then soft lips brushed over his. Bilbo gasped in surprise but did not pull away. When Thorin drew back enough to look into the bright blue eyes of the hobbit, he saw confusion there, but no rejection.

"Why?" Bilbo finally asked, genuinely curious.

One hand carefully traced the halfling's tapered ear. "Because you are the strongest person I have ever met."

"But I'm just a hobbit. And a blind one at that."

"Loyalty, honor, a willing heart. I could ask no more than that."

Bilbo couldn't know that he was looking directly at the dwarf, but he did know he was safe in Thorin's arms. Never would he have to worry about proving his loyalty or angering the king but he was also completely free to reject what was offered. There was no doubt in his mind that he trusted the dwarf implicitly and it would be welcome to share the cold nights. If the King Under the Mountain could find it within his heart to bare it completely, Bilbo was not a hobbit to refuse.

"Alright then." He missed that he could not see Thorin smile but the dwarf raised the halfling's hand to his face, letting him feel the gentle curve of his lips.


	7. Chapter 7

Needless to say, I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, or Peter Jackson's versions.

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To See All Clearly

Thorin lay completely naked on his wide bed, arms spread and entirely relaxed. Only a dim glow from the fireplace painted his body golden but he kept his eyes shut. Above him, a hobbit straddled his hips, carefully tracing his fingers over every inch of flesh, memorizing and awakening sensation. Bilbo could feel the scars of old wounds and burns from forges. He traced the knotted muscles and fine hairs before flicking a finger over one pebbled nipple. The king groaned at the pleasure but remained still, allowing his lover to explore his body at his leisure.

It wasn't often that the dwarf relaxed enough to be completely bare with the hobbit but he enjoyed the delicate touch, yearning for the moment those hands would brush lower. He reveled in their differences. Bilbo moved slowly, relying on touch and sound, but Thorin was a force to be reckoned with. He worshiped the halfling by bringing him to new heights, sending him spiraling into need and want. Decades had taught him every spot to kiss on his tender body, how to place his heels behind his back, and when to move and when to wait.

Carefully, Thorin brought his hands to the hobbit a hips and gripped the delicate waist. He never worried about hurting the smaller creature, and Bilbo trusted him completely. As one thick finger circled his tight entrance, the halfling rocked back, spreading himself wider. The king was quick to dip his fingers in the pot of oil they kept by the bed. Always he was impatient to be inside his lover.

The dwarf couldn't resist opening his eyes a little to watch the hobbit's face. It was his favorite thing, to see his face completely slack and lips formed into a little O of perfection. One finger became two and Bilbo couldn't resist rocking back harder, pressing his weeping cock for more friction against Thorin's belly. Three and a low keening escaped the halfling's throat, making his cock twitch even more.

Bilbo kept his eyes closed as he lowered himself onto the king's shaft. He could pretend he wasn't blind for a moment, imagining the way the dwarf would throw back his head and clench his fists to keep from pulling the hobbit down hard and fast. He could picture the gray streaks in his hair sticking to his brow, furrowed in concentration but when he opened his eyes to see the pleasure in Thorin's eyes, only darkness greeted him. The Shireling leaned down to rest against the older dwarf's chest, feeling his member twitch inside him.

Thorin waited eagerly for the flutter of muscles that heralded the hobbit's movement. When it came he let his breath hiss out in measured seconds before rolling his hips. It was bliss to thrust into the willing body that never failed to make his blood run hot. Bilbo matched him for every stroke, clenching his muscles and letting his name slip from his lips like a promise. The king knew he would not last forever and he reached for the hobbit, caressing his length in earnest. Their names were swallowed by a kiss as they shuddered in completion together. Thorin never wanted the moment to end.

When the dwarf king awoke, the first thing he noticed was one of his braids was being gently tugged. The second was his hobbit had a deep frown. Pushing the sleep from his eyes, Thorin smiled at the halfling.

"What's troubling you, little one?"

"When did you get so gray?"

Instantly, he sat up and looked at the hobbit, pleased when his blue eyes followed his movement. "You can see!"

Bilbo nodded, and let himself be pulled up into Thorin's lap in a tight embrace. The king kissed his lover and companion with every emotion he had ever felt for the small creature, caressing his body and smiling. Never had the dwarf been so overjoyed and he thanked every deity he could think of. Very gently, he lay the halfling back down in the bed and caressed his body, never taking his eyes from his. For the first time in many decades, Bilbo did not have to close his eyes to imagine Thorin's face in pleasure.

In the end, when very many long years had passed away and Fili and Kili wore matching crowns, Bilbo watched as Thorin's eyes dimmed. The dwarf king was surrounded by darkness as the hobbit once had been but he did not despair. They would walk slowly through the mountain, Thorin's hand resting on the halfling's elbow as he described every detail and told stories of their younger years. Age could never change the utter devotion between the pair, nor could blindness.

When Thorin was too weak to leave their bed on his own, Bilbo waited and watched, running soft fingers over the scars of old wounds and burns from forges. Too soon the great King Under the Mountain breathed no more but Bilbo did not weep. He too would be joining the dwarf on their last adventure and closed his eyes peacefully.

They were laid to rest together, even aged and crowned, Fili and Kili would not separate their uncle from his greatest treasure, the Arkenstone long forgotten. At the base of the mountain, their tomb stood to show how form did not matter, nor differences in ability, only loyalty, honor, a willing heart.


End file.
